


Sunset

by Ironlawyer, LegendsofSnark, only_more_love, S_Hylor



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Don’t copy to another site, Hurt Steve, Hurt Tony, Love Confessions, M/M, Tony Stark Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-09-29 19:17:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20441156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ironlawyer/pseuds/Ironlawyer, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegendsofSnark/pseuds/LegendsofSnark, https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_more_love/pseuds/only_more_love, https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_Hylor/pseuds/S_Hylor
Summary: Together. Steve doesn't let Tony do the snap alone.A relay fic for the Put on the Suit Discord server.





	Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written as a relay for the Put on the Suit Discord server. Please see end notes for who wrote what part.
> 
> Shaman610 from the Discord server is also a coauthor.
> 
> Big thanks to FestiveFerret and athletiger for all your work on this event. It was a pleasure to take part in.

The dust doesn’t settle. It lingers in the air, catching the light of the setting sun, swirls in the wind over the battlefield, what once had been the Avengers Compound, and Steve tries not to think about how some of that dust had previously been an invading alien race. 

How some of it had been Thanos until Tony had taken the Infinity Gauntlet off of him and snapped his fingers and saved the world.

Everything in Steve’s body aches. Pain from the battle but multiplied tenfold.

His hand, where it still clings to the Infinity Gauntlet, gloves torn and knuckles bloody, looks burnt from the energy that had coursed through him moments before.

When he’d seen Tony with the Gauntlet, there had only been one thought in his mind.

_Together_.

He’d gripped Tony’s wrist, encased in the Gauntlet, and he’s not even sure if he’d said anything, but for a brief second he’d met Tony’s gaze, and he thinks they’d both known that if they were going to go out, they’d do it together. After all the mistakes he’d made, all the times he hadn't been there for Tony, it was the least he could do.

They’d had five years. Five years after Thanos’ first attack, to lick their wounds, to mend the tatters of their friendship, and during the past few weeks, with time travelling together and working together like they used to, Steve had thought that maybe they had a chance at being something else. He wasn’t about to lose Tony all over again. 

“Steve?” Tony’s voice croaks next to him.

Over the ringing in his ears he can hear the pain in Tony’s voice. It had been a vicious fight, and if Tony felt even half the pain that Steve feels right now, it’s too much. Lifting his head is a big effort, but Steve does, looks around the battlefield, the dust haze and the wreckage of the place that had been his home for five years. Then he looks at Tony, who had been his home for so m much longer. The colours of the Iron Man suit aren’t as bright as they used to be. He blinks to try and focus his sight, but the blurriness stays. The ringing in his ears doesn’t let up either. 

“Steve, Steve, are you alright?”

The voice sounds distant and it takes him a moment to realize that it’s Tony talking to him. He blinks again, getting his eyes to focus and sees Tony staring back at him, face twisted with pain and concern. He nods jerkily, tries to get words to form, but it feels like his lungs are refusing to expand, his throat closing over.

He feels Tony’s arm pull out of his grasp, though he tries to hold on, hears Tony mumble something soothing when he chokes out a distressed noise. Then Tony’s hand is in his, he can feel the callouses and scars, the recent burn damage from the Gauntlet. It matches his own.

Around them, people start to gather, Steve can hear Bucky and Sam, Pepper and Rhodey.

Everyone that matters.

In the polished surface on Tony’s suit, Steve catches his own reflection. The face staring back at him is one he hasn’t seen in years; thinner, more angular. The way his uniform feels like it is sagging off his body tells him what it had been that the Infinity Stones had burnt through to get their power.

Steve swallows around the lump that forms in his throat at the sudden realisation. He chooses to ignore the ringing in his ears and finds it in him to instead look up at Tony and give him reassurance. He can deal with his shit later, Tony comes first.

"Yeah, Tony. I - I'm okay." By sheer force of will, he manages to get the words out. He doesn't actually feel all that okay, but Tony’s tight grip on his hand and look of fear has Steve rushing to calm him anyway he can. Tony slumps then, breathing out all at once. He looks at Steve and the glisten to Tony’s eyes attract all of his attention, everything else fading away. Tony’s still holding his hand, but the grip has loosened a bit, with a softer touch.

“God Steve, you - I...” Tony fumbles with his words, shaking his head. Before he finally seems to stop and settles on what to say. “We did it, Steve. We - we actually did it.” Tony brings his other hand around now, to encase his smaller one in both. The difference doesn’t seem to phase him, or maybe he doesn’t notice, but the attention makes Steve feel a rush of affection for the man nonetheless.

The relief that Steve knows they both must feel is palpable in the air between them. Tony’s alive. He wasn’t too late this time, the thought making him almost dizzy with joy. Only he realizes a beat too late that he actually is dizzy, feeling his head lolling back to the side.

Everything after that happens in blur. Too much movement, too fast, and all at once. In the peripheral of his vision he sees a brief flash of Sam and Bucky rushing towards them, before he flicks his eyes back to Tony. The last thing he sees is Tony’s look of alarm before his eyes roll back and he feels himself pass out.

**

A steady beeping coaxes Steve to awareness. He feels groggy, his head is killing him and his tongue is heavy in his mouth. What he wouldn’t give for an aspirin right about now. He blinks at the thought. He hasn’t wanted an aspirin since - all at once everything comes back to him. Thanos, the gauntlet, his reflection, Tony - he settles on Tony. 

From what he remembers, Tony looked pretty bad but at least seemed to be faring better than Steve. It seems Steve- being the more advanced individual - braced most of the strain from using the gauntlet. That was good. He would take anything that allowed for Tony to finally bear less of the burden. Together, he reminded himself.

“Hey Steve, welcome to the land of the living,” Bucky calls out. Steve blinks up at the ceiling, then turns to his head to the side to see Bucky seated beside him.

“Buck,” is all that he manages to croak out, his throat feeling too dry to form proper words. Steve watches as his action causes a determined look that he hasn't seen on his old friend's face since what felt like a lifetime ago. Irritation starts to well up at the base of his stomach and he has to stop himself from letting that same old frustration and inadequacy build up - things are different now, he’s different. He's come too far to revert back to old worries and woes.

Bucky reaches over and passes him a cup of water. As soon as his throat clears, he asks about Tony.

“Stark passed out the same time you did. He’s in the next room over.”

Steve tries his best to sit up. Bucky takes the cup of water from him and sits it back on the table. There's something in Bucky's eyes that Steve can't read that makes Steve uneasy. He needs to speak with Tony, no he needs to see him and make sure that everything is okay.

However. A strong arm on his chest pushes him back against the plush pillows and he sighs.

He doesn't like this. He doesn't want to just lay here while Tony is in the other room with Steve not knowing what was happening. If he was truly okay or not and Steve was not happy.

"I need to see if he---"

Steve tries again. This time Bucky doesn't stop him, knows that he can try all he wants and it will only lead to Steve doing what he wants anyway. Steve slips out of bed. Bucky finds him some pants to toss on. The hospital gown is not flattering in any way that Steve wants half the hospital to see his butt.

He slips them on and Bucky leads him to the room down the hall. The one that has Happy and Pepper standing outside the door whispering among themselves before they stop when they see Steve.

"Steve." Pepper's voice is small, calm but unwavering. She smiles nothing but sadness and it makes Steve think the worst. Is Tony okay?

"Ms. Potts. How..." Steve's jaw clenches and his hands ball into fists at his side. The motion doesn't go unnoticed by Pepper who quickly places a hand on his shoulder.

"He's resting now. He took it pretty hard but he's going to be okay. Happy and I were discussing protocol after Tony is released. Do you want to go in and see him?"

Steve nods. "Yes Ma'am. Thank you."  
Pepper steps aside and lets Steve enter the room. His heart stops when he sees Tony pale against the sheets but it's unmistakable that he's breathing. The machine buzzes and beeps.

Tony's chest rises and falls and he's safe. Safe. Steve collapses in the chair next to his bed.

He takes Tony's hand in his own. Not sure if the genius can hear him but he tries anyway.

"I'm glad that you're okay. I was worried that you wouldn't make it and that I wouldn't have the chance to tell you how I feel. Tony. All we've been through. All these years that we spent either fighting or arguing were the worst and yet, the ones that we spent side by side on the battlefield were even better. I saw you in a different light. Saw the true man that you became and my feelings for you---"

Steve lets a tear slip down his cheek as he continues, he could say the words and it doesn't mean that Tony will hear. He wants to tell him this all again when he wakes up. "I love you Tony."

Tony's hand twitches in Steve's. He glances quickly and notices Tony's face contouring and trying to form words.

He's waking up.

Steve's heart speeds up. Did he hear everything? Were Steve's words the ones that got through to Tony? Did he hear him?

Steve waits.

Time will tell.

Tony squints at the ceiling and Steve squeezes his fingers, begging Tony to look his way. But Tony’s eyes drift closed again. The rumble of his sleep heavy breathing begins once more, a reassurance of the life and humanity that remains beneath the buzz of machinery.

Above the humming evidence of Tony’s life, Steve hears the poorly hushed voices of Colonel Rhodes and Ms. Potts outside. He considers all the harsh words his mother once said about eavesdropping, but there’s an urgency in their tones which tempts him in.

"You should've been honest." Rhodes says. 

"What good would it do?" 

"Pepper, I'm sorry, but I know what Tony's going through better than you do." Ms. Potts is silent then, the argument apparently won. 

"Come on," Rhodes' voice is softer now, "let's get coffee, give Cap a little time with him before we break the news."

Steve tries to tell himself there is nothing to worry about. Tony is alive and warm and breathing on his own. He woke and he will wake again. That's all that matters. 

As Tony rests, Steve scans himself, like he learned to after Project Rebirth made every injury feel inconsequential. His muscles hurt, dull throbbing aches scattered across his body, from his temples to his feet. 

It's like his body is an overused eraser, once clean and whole, now worn down to uselessness, the dust blown away to fix a mistake. 

He clings to Tony, to have something to cling to. He wonders if he really loves him, or if he just _needs_ to love him. 

Tony is awake again and staring. Steve wonders how long Tony has been watching. 

"Guess we're still alive, huh, Cap?"

"Guess so."

Tony's eyes scan him. The temptation to cover his emaciated body itchs like sandpaper on Steve's skin, but he lets Tony assess him. 

"Guess we should be thankful for it, but it sure feels like bullshit to me."

Steve agrees, but doesn't say so. Bitterness will do them no good now. They chose this. They won. 

"Are you okay?" Steve asks. "Should I get a doctor?" 

"Oh yeah, I am peak 'okay'. Without the suit I can hardly move a muscle below the neck, but at least my chest doesn't hurt anymore."

Steve's lungs feel tight. The first sign of an oncoming asthma attack he's felt since Project Rebirth. He doesn't feel like a hero, he feels like the cripple he has forgotten how to be.

Since Steve met him, Tony has buzzed with a constant movement like some kind of perpetual motion machine. Except for the briefest twitch of fingers and the steady rise and fall of his breath, Tony hasn't moved since he woke up. 

The Stones physically drained Tony just as they did Steve. But Tony had no Super Soldier serum to give up. 

Steve wants to say those ill timed bedside words again. It seems masochistic now though. He's lost too much to lose this friendship to his desperate romanticism. 

"Everyone's back. We won," Steve says, clinging to it because he has to. 

"Yeah. Doesn't feel much like victory though, does it?" Tony turns his head away. "Guess we've kissed goodbye to our super hero days."

"You haven't lost what made you a hero, Tony. You still have that brain and those suits of yours." Tony can still be Iron Man. But Steve, well, he's just Steve now. 

"Self pity doesn't look good on you, Steve. And that gown's not too flattering either."

Steve cracks a smile and there's a brief pause before Tony says, "I heard what you said, you know?"

Steve freezes. 

His heart beats uncomfortably fast, and with every breath, it feels like there’s a band tightening around his chest. His first impulse is to hunch his shoulders and fold in on himself; to make himself as small as possible. He wants to be invisible. Though the temptation is strong, Steve knows that hiding won’t undo anything that’s happened, and it certainly won’t rewind the last few minutes and make it so Tony never heard his confession.

After Siberia—after he thought he’d lost Tony and his friendship and his keen wit and his dark eyes that had always looked at Steve with such warmth—Steve had sent Tony a phone and a promise. He’d promised that if Tony needed him, he’d be there.

If ever there was a time to make good on that promise and prove they weren’t empty words from a liar’s mouth, it’s now, when Tony’s trapped in a hospital bed, unable to move, because he saved the world.

No, because _they_ saved the world. Together.

So despite his fears about Tony’s reaction and despite the pain and the sheer, unfamiliar weakness that Steve feels everywhere like a second skin but hasn’t felt since before the serum, he wills himself to sit as straight as he can in the hard plastic chair that’s pressing uncomfortably against his now-bony backside and face Tony. Chin up, shoulders back, Steve shares a gaze with the man who gave him a home and who has held his heart in his calloused hands for years: across oceans, through betrayal, through trauma and heartbreak.

They eye each other in expectant silence, monitors and machines beeping around them, and the harsh scent of disinfectant sharp in their nostrils.

A hot flush floods Steve’s face as he suddenly notices he’s still holding Tony’s hand with his uninjured one. But he doesn’t release it. Carefully, so carefully, he squeezes it; Tony doesn't squeeze back. His hand remains a warm, limp weight in Steve’s. With a shock of pain in his chest, Steve realizes that Tony might never move again. He braces against it and forces himself to speak: “I meant it. Every single word.”

Tony inhales shakily and his face contorts. He blinks rapidly, his lashes long and dark in his paper-pale face, and Steve catches the sheen of tears in his eyes. But that doesn’t last long; Tony’s expression smooths out and he quickly gets himself back under control. “You know, I waited…” Tony starts, then stops, his voice a hoarse, choked-off thing. His gaze flicks away from Steve, and Steve feels the loss of it acutely. Chills wash over him.

Tony’s teeth dig into his lip so hard it looks painful. When he turns his attention back to Steve, it’s as though a heavy curtain has fallen over his features. Everything in Steve wants to pull back that curtain and beg Tony not to hide from him. “I waited for years to hear you say something like that, and you say it now when I’m married and have a kid. When I might be paralyzed. When I have absolutely _nothing_ to give you.” The sound of his laughter, when it comes, is jarring, jagged, and lacking any real amusement. Hearing it slices through something essential in Steve. “I mean, talk about bad timing.“

Steve picks at his hospital gown with his free hand, and a grimace twists his face at the fire that shoots through him because of even that tiny movement. There’s some kind of gauze covering most of his burned hand.

“You’re right. My timing stinks. And I am sorry about that. More sorry than you’ll ever know. But you’re wrong. It’s early. You don’t know that you won’t heal. There’s always Strange. Helen Cho. Other doctors.” 

Tony snorts in disbelief. “Yeah, or maybe I should just be realistic. I didn’t expect to survive, and now— And now—”

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Steve raises Tony’s hand and flattens it against his cheek. “And now maybe you’ll heal completely. Maybe you won’t. Maybe the old me, maybe this tired, sick body is the new me. Maybe it isn’t. Time will tell. But the world—the world we all saved together—still needs us. All those people who were gone for five years are back, alive, and that changes things. Changes families.” Steve pauses, remembering Dr. Erskine’s urgings to him to remain a good man, not a perfect soldier. “No matter what, we can still be useful. No matter what, I’m by your side. And I’m not asking you for anything but the chance to stay there, please. Will you let me do that?”

“I don’t know. I lo—” Tony shakes his head, agony in his features. “I can’t say it right now. I'm sorry.”

Steve can’t help the joy and anguish, twin flames that leap inside him at Tony’s cut-off words.

But for Tony’s sake, he keeps his voice calm and level. “Don’t be sorry. I mean it—I don’t want you to say anything except that we’ll do this, whatever comes next, together. You’re not alone. Okay?”

An eternity passes while Steve waits for Tony’s reply.

Finally, Tony nods, his lips trembling. “Okay. Together,” he says, and Steve feels lightheaded with relief.

It takes every bit of self-control Steve possesses to restrain himself from folding Tony into his arms and holding on tight. Instead, he presses a kiss to the back of Tony’s hand before gently laying it on the hospital bed. “Thank you,” Steve says softly. Even then, he can’t bear to let Tony’s hand go. His thumb strokes slowly over the back of it as Steve concentrates on breathing.

(Soon, he thinks, soon he’ll release it.)

**Author's Note:**

> Who wrote what:
> 
> **S-Hylor -**  
Recived the prompts 'Sunset' and kicked it all off.  
Last line: The way his uniform feels like it is sagging off his body tells him what it had been that the Infinity Stones had burnt through to get their power.
> 
> **Shaman610 -**  
First line: Steve swallows around the lump that forms in his throat at the sudden realisation.  
  
**LegendsofSnark/Snarkysartes -**  
Last line: Time will tell. 
> 
> **Ironlawyer -**  
First line: Tony squints at the ceiling and Steve squeezes his fingers, begging Tony to look his way.  
Last line: Steve freezes. 
> 
> **only_more_love -**  
First line: His heart beats uncomfortably fast, and with every breath, it feels like there’s a band tightening around his chest.


End file.
